


Escaping The Burn

by Leelee_is_me



Series: Evan Buckley Week 2020 [3]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck loves animals okay, Evan Buckley Week, Gen, Hurt, I Tried, Implied Relationships, M/M, Pre-Relationship, also, its pretty ambiguous tbh, the Bobby feels hit me out of nowhere towards the end, the hurt is pretty minimal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leelee_is_me/pseuds/Leelee_is_me
Summary: Buck can feel the fire getting worse around him right before his radio crackles, Bobby’s voice coming through. “Buck, where are you? This building is going down any minute, and you need to be clear when that happens.”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Evan Buckley Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674517
Comments: 10
Kudos: 308





	Escaping The Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3! The prompt was “Please don’t close your eyes!” + hurt. If you squint, the hurt is in there somewhere, but. It's very minimal. 
> 
> Also, like, my knowledge of firefighting and how fires work is limited to what I absorb from this show, so excuse any glitches in the matrix here, please.

Buck can feel the fire getting worse around him right before his radio crackles, Bobby’s voice coming through. “Buck, where are you? This building is going down any minute, and you need to be clear when that happens.”

Buck grunts, breathing heavily in his mask. He shifts the weight of the man on his back, gripping him securely with one hand so he can grab at his radio with the other. “I have one vic with me, he’s not doing so good, Cap. I’m doing a final sweep.”

“Report said the man’s alone. Head home, Buck,” Bobby’s voice cuts back. 

Buck doesn’t have to be told twice. He heads towards the exit, keeping an eye on the flames climbing the walls around him. Once on scene, the 118 realized that this fire was burning hot and Buck suspected that most of the house wouldn’t be standing by the end of the night.

In less than a minute, he’s clear of the home. Walking out into the open air is an immediate relief, even through all his gear he’s wearing. The adrenaline that comes from walking into disasters always helps Buck focus, but it certainly doesn’t help him stay cool. 

He stumbles a bit down the rickety stairs, the man groaning and starting to move on his shoulders. Hen and Chimney aren’t quite ready for him, but the man is certainly ready to get down, so Buck kneels and gently rolls him off his shoulders onto his back.

Buck rips off his mask, gulping in the smoke-filled night air, and starts doing a preliminary once-over, checking for serious burns and injuries that he can identify. The man’s burned pretty bad. His clothes are singed into his skin in some places, and unmercifully, the man is still awake. He must have one hell of a pain tolerance.

“Sir, you’re going to be okay. I need you to stay still. We’re taking you to the hospital,” Buck says as the man tries to sit up. Buck bars him with as gentle a hand as he can manage, but still, the man cries out in pain. His face is soot-dirty, but his eyes are startling white, and when his gaze focuses on Buck, he feels like he’s being pierced.

“My dog,” he rasps, now gripping at Buck. “Where is my dog? Did you guys get her out?”

Buck’s brow crinkles. A bad feeling settles in his stomach. “Dog? There’s a dog in the house?”

“Yes! Oh my god, she’s still in there! Petunia!” the man starts screaming, fighting against Buck even more.

Buck eyes the house critically, looking for any evidence of movement besides flame. His team is still pumping water at the house, and that combined with the smoke makes it hard to see anything specific.

“Sir, you’ve got to stay still! You’re going to hurt yourself worse!” Hen yells, sliding to the ground across from Buck. Chimney taps on Buck’s shoulder, and he moves instantly, watching the pair try to simultaneously restrain and treat the vic. Suddenly, he stops moving and stiffens, falling back violently against the ground, eyes rolling up into his head.

Buck can’t help it. He reaches for the man’s leg, leaning forward. “Hey, man, come on! Please don’t close your eyes! Where exactly is your dog?” It’s no use, though, the man is still out of it, coughing violently. Buck stands to shuffle further out of the way and closer to the house burning down behind him. 

Buck knows it’s stupid. Cap already called it, the house isn’t stable any more, but—

He has to. Buck doesn’t think he can live with himself if he doesn’t at least _try_. If he has to suffer through reprimands from Bobby and a probably livid Eddie, well, he can live with _that_ , at least.

Buck sprints back up the stairs, yanks his mask back over his face, and ignores his name being yelled behind him. The heat engulfs him yet again, and he starts scanning the ground, looking for any sign of the overlooked dog. He doesn’t even know what _kind_ of dog he’s looking for, but he sweeps the rooms as quickly and thoroughly as he can. 

“Buck! I told you this building is done for. Get out of there!” Bobby’s voice is authoritative and if Buck was really listening, maybe a teensy bit scared. But Buck’s never been afraid to ignore an order before, so he keeps sweeping as he fumbles the radio on. 

“I can’t, Cap! Not everyone made it out. There’s a dog in here.”

“ _You_ won’t make it out if you’re in there when that building goes!” Fuck. That’s Eddie, and he sounds _not happy_ , to say the least.

He feels Eddie’s distress tug at him, trying to pull him back out the front door, back into the safety of the LA night. It’s the same tug that happens any time Eddie so much as _looks_ at him, that desire to always be by his side. 

Usually, Buck has no reason to deny the urge, but tonight, Buck ignores it. 

Another insufferably slow minute passes as he carefully navigates the rooms before he finally sees a small black blob curled up in the single area of the kitchen not currently on fire. Buck runs over, reaches down, and scoops the tiny thing into his arms. Her head flops a little, and Buck can’t tell if she’s breathing. Buck cradles the dachshund to his chest, covering its tiny body with as much of his turnout jacket as he can.

Buck hurries back towards the front door, and of _course_ he watches as the broken door falls across the entrance, catching the entire frame on fire. He can _see_ his team through the door, blurry dark shapes moving everywhere. Hen and Chimney are still crouched over the vic. Buck also can’t tell if _he’s_ breathing.

Buck tightens his hold on the dog. “Cap, who’s on the hose? Get them to spray the door. I need an exit,” Buck says over the radio, counting down the seconds, paying attention to each creak and groan that the house lets out, almost as if to warn him: it’s not going to stay standing much longer.

“Got it. Stand clear,” Cap says, yelling out commands off radio. Buck swings away from the entrance, stepping back just as water shoots through the flame-licked doorframe. The rushing sound of the water mixes with the thundering flames around him, and it’s a cacophony of chaos, but Buck is laser focused. This kind of chaos only sharpens Buck’s senses, drowns out the extraneous noise, and it’s this single moment of intense concentration that he feels the dog struggle to life in his arms. Buck’s heart unclenches just a bit knowing that at least one of tonight’s victims is still alive.

Suddenly, the jets of water vanish, and Cap’s voice screams to him, so loud Buck can hear him both through the radio and outside the burning house. “Clear, Buck! Move it!”

With a burst of hope and no desire to disobey his Captain’s orders now, Buck leaps over the still-smoking front door, but he lands on the porch hard, one of his boots slamming through the flame- and water-weakened wood. Buck curses, pulling his leg free and he tilts a bit too far, and he _knows_ he’s going to fall, can only think of rolling onto his back to avoid crushing this tiny body in his arms, but then someone is grabbing his shoulders, yanking him down the porch stairs and straight into a familiar chest.

“That was so fucking dumb, Buck, _fuck_ ,” Eddie bites out, his grip on Buck’s arms tightening in combined anger and fear, but his eyes are only shining with relief. He lifts Buck’s mask off his face and lets it clatter to the ground, Eddie’s hands returning to Buck’s body, grounding them both. 

Buck pants as he leans into Eddie’s, feeling the last wave of adrenaline loosening its hold. That unmistakable tug back to safety, to _Eddie_ , quiets within Buck as the seconds pass and his brain catches up, recognizing that he’s out of danger. “No man left behind, right? Even if it’s a dog. And a girl,” Buck says breathlessly.

Eddie pulls him further away from the burning house, which is now crumbling in on itself. Just a bit longer in that building and that could’ve been it for Buck. But tonight he made it out, so dwelling on the _maybes_ won’t do anything for him except keep him up at night. 

Buck approaches the man, now secured on a stretcher, white gauze wrapped everywhere around his body, and an IV strung up and held by Hen. Eddie follows after him, hand hooked in the crook of Buck’s elbow, clearly not ready to let go. They’re wheeling him towards the ambulance. The man’s critical, but stable, and so Buck feels no remorse for holding them up another minute.

“Wait!” Buck calls, hurrying closer. “Hey, look who I found.” Buck stands by the man’s head, uncurling his arms a little to show the trembling, but very much _alive_ , dog.

“Petunia,” the man breathes and immediately starts crying. It could be the morphine, but he looks up at Buck with unabashed, whole-hearted relief shining in his eyes. It’s the same exact expression that Eddie gave him, and to feel that kind of appreciation twice in quick succession is a little overwhelming. “Oh fuck, _thank you_ , oh my god… I don’t know what I would have done if she—” he cuts off, crying even harder. 

Buck says nothing (what _is_ there to say, _you’re welcome?_ ) and only lowers the dog closer. The man manages to lift his hand up, and she gives him a good sniff and a tiny lick. Besides some smoke-inhalation and a desperate need for a bath, the dog is fine. Buck lets out a huge breath, shoulders slumping, and if there are some tears in his eyes, he’ll blame the smoke. 

Bobby comes up beside him and suddenly, they’re all there, surrounding this man reuniting with his dog, and Buck knows that he’s not the only one blaming the smoke for some extra waterworks going on. Bobby slaps a hand on Buck’s shoulder, grip tight, and he _knows_ he’ll be chewed out tomorrow. But for now, Bobby is letting them have this moment, and Buck is again reminded why he loves him, admires him, and most importantly, wants nothing more than to make him proud. Buck thinks, even if Bobby won’t say it, he did tonight.

Tonight, Buck will sleep easy, but tomorrow, Buck will want a dog.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I was going to kill the man, but then I gave him a dog and I couldn’t do it. Props to anyone who knows what adorable Frenchie inspired her name?
> 
> Come scream with me on [Tumblr](https://kom-wanheda.tumblr.com/).


End file.
